


Like Walking on a Beach With Bare Feet

by RiYuYami



Series: Sour Blessings [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is not Raphael, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gen, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley or Aziraphale in this case, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Reverse Omens, Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiYuYami/pseuds/RiYuYami
Summary: The demon Aziraphale has prepared a meeting with two dangerous men in order to get what he needs.However, he really should have seen his betrayal coming. Luckily, a certain angel knew something was up, hopefully the two of them can get out of this without too much trouble.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Sour Blessings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026102
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Like Walking on a Beach With Bare Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Got another one-shot for Sour Blessings for you guys, this time it’s centered on the Church Scene because I, like many other fans, adore the hell out of this scene.
> 
> Also, prepare to see how I’m gonna have an angel do a tap dance in a church.
> 
> Warning: Nazis, but that should always be a warning, minor character death, Crowley making an ass out of himself, and Aziraphale as well, and the two of them having a bit of a chat about what happened in the 1860s.
> 
> As always, Aziraphale is a cat demon, and Crowley is the Archangel Samael, who is a black rainbow boa angel.
> 
> On with the fic!

It had been Aziraphale’s idea to meet in an old, abandoned church.

He knew that this place wasn’t blessed anymore, a secret group of demonic worshippers had corrupted it with their nonsense ‘rituals’, leaving the place perfect for a meeting spot for him and his ‘clients’. 

Stepping into the church, the demon found the two men at the back of the room. He smelled the Hellfire in the room before he saw it, lighting the place up a bit. 

Well, he had to give the demon worshippers some credit, not every day they could access Hellfire. So, at the very least, they must have accomplished something they had set out to do. And since Aziraphale didn’t feel any burning in his body from left over traces of holiness, he was safe to tread on once-hallow ground.

A bright, fake smile plastered itself on Aziraphale’s lips as he approached the two Nazis. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He held onto the handle of his leather bag tightly, knowing that the books inside could make or break this situation for him.

The deal that was set up between him and the two German men was simple:

Aziraphale was to bring in a collection of rare books of prophecy, in exchange for money. Now, as a demon with an impressive ‘record’ here on Earth of ‘events’ and ‘corruptions’ that he laid claim and responsibility over, he clearly had a hefty, bi-weekly paycheck from his bosses from Below. However, Aziraphale only agreed to this due to the network he had involved himself in.

It was essentially a spy ring, to weed out the traitors to the Allies and bring them to justice!

Well… Aziraphale wouldn’t say he was doing this for those sort of reasons, justice and all that really wasn't his scene, he just liked taking on nasty sinners. Yes, yes, Hell would prefer for the sinners to flourish, but there is always the flip side that them being caught could lead to pride on the side of the captors, which has the good guys being sinful themselves. And bounties draw in greed, another batch of terrible marks for their souls, as his angelic... associate had told him, which Aziraphale took as the truth, considering the one who told him was the original Sin Eater.

Besides, if a naughty sinner happened to be killed while they were being hunted down… just another soul for Hell, which was still a victory for his side.

And these two were dangerous and very naughty indeed, Aziraphale wasn’t the only man of antiques and old texts to be in their sights! He will just be the lucky bastard who will come out of this alive!

…

Or so he thought, as his plan seemed to fall to pieces rather quickly.

As it were, he had brought to Mr. Harmony and Mr. Glozier what they had asked for, books of prophecy from his collection, all of which were first editions and ones he collected himself. Except, however, for the rarest of the rare, the _Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter_ , but no one has a copy of that text! After he gave them the books, Aziraphale found that they were just going to kill him, to which he revealed his partner from the spy ring he was in, Rose Montgomery! Who… in turn was also a double-agent Nazi spy that worked with the two men.

Now Aziraphale found himself in a rather nasty situation, guns pointed at him, with part of his precious collection in the hands of three dreadful people. And the cherry on top was the fact that if he was to die here, there would be paperwork! 

The doors to the corrupted cathedral slammed open with loud bangs as they struck the stone walls. This was followed quickly by hissing, yelping, and a few words that clearly should not be said by an Archangel of the Lord.

The four figures in the church all turned their attention to their new guest, a scrawny redhead, dressed to the nines in a dark gray suit and hat, doing what appeared to be a rather horrible dance while being in pain. 

“Ow, ow, owowowowow!” Crowley squeaked, jumping from foot to foot, Aziraphale could clearly see small whiffs of steam coming off his shoes and the parts of the floor his feet had just touched. Aziraphale was quick to realize the idiot, who he hadn’t seen much of since the war started, was in his blasted snakeskin shoes instead of actual shoes!

“Sorry!” Crowley yelped, nearly jumping onto an old, broke pew when he tried to stand still. “Ow! Corrupted ground! It’s like… being at the beach in bare feet!”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Aziraphale snapped, taking two steps before Greta, not Rose, put her gun closer to him. 

“Stopping _you_ from getting into trouble.” Crowley replied, as if this was the most obvious news in the world, before he jumped back down, trying to approach closer.

Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms, of course the angel would come here to stop him from his wiles, isn’t that always the case. “Well, dear boy, I’m doing just fine!”

Crowley gave him a look that Aziraphale could clearly read through those damn shades that screamed ‘bullshit’. “Doesn’t look like it. Please tell me you’re not working with these guys, kitty cat, you’re better than that!”

The demon looked at him, offended. “Dear Satan, you think I’d stoop so low as to work with people like them!?”

“Well…” Crowley shrugged. “Good point, you’re better than stooping low enough to work with a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies, especially ones that are goin’ around, killin’ booksellers and the like, such as yourself- holy shit, this burns!” He was back to doing his odd little dance, spinning in place. “Anyway, that’s more of Hastur’s department!”

“Hmm, true, but he’s currently over the channel, I think.”

Glozier ignored their odd conversation, looking at Crowley with interest. “Well, the mysterious Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you.”

Aziraphale blinked, looking from the Nazi towards his friend, as if something clicked into place. Was… Crowley part of his own spy ring? Taking down bad guys? Wait, if he’s here, then that meant that he’s been tracking down the killers of those other booksellers, and he knew Aziraphale was on their list.

Did… did Crowley come here to save him? He felt his heart flutter a little at that, even after that fight that put a dreadful stain on their friendship, he still cared. Of course, Crowley cared, he’d never let a fight end nearly 6000 years of friendship, yeah?

However, something weird did catch his attention. “Anthony?” He asked and Crowley stopped, looking rather self-conscious and embarrassed.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I’ll get used to it.” Aziraphale winked and the angel’s face looked like it darkened a bit, hard to tell in the light of Hellfire.

“The famous Mr. Crowley?” Greta asked, amused. “Such a pity you must both die.”

“What does the J stand for?” Aziraphale asked, ignoring the three Germans once more.

Crowley looked more embarrassed than before, going back to his weird shuffling as he mumbled, ‘just a J, really.’ His attention seemed to be on the Hellfire now, noticing what the flames were sitting in. “Hellfire where Holy Water should sit? How blasphemous.” 

Okay, maybe he was still sour about the Holy Water thing, Aziraphale would have to speak with his friend about this, hopefully when they got out of here without having to deal with one or both of them being shot.

“Enough babbling!” Glozier exclaimed. “Kill them both.”

The guns were facing them both and the cat demon felt himself tense up, until Crowley spoke up. “I-In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here! If you all run away, very, VERY fast, you might not die! You won’t enjoy dying.”

“And you definitely won’t enjoy what comes next.” Aziraphale added on.

Glozier looked at them suspiciously. “You expect us to believe that? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End.”

“It would take,” Crowley said through his teeth, “a last-minute angelic intervention to throw them all off course, yes. You are waiting all your valuable running-away time.” He shouted, spinning around in place, before his attention landed on the demon in the room.

“But if, in thirty seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real, devilish miracle for my friend and I to survive it.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “A real, devilish miracle?”

“Yes.” Crowley hissed, eyes pleading over the rims of his glasses.

Harmony groaned. “Kill them! They are very irritating!”

Just as Greta raised her gun once more, ready to shoot at Aziraphale, there was a distant, yet sharp, whistle above their heads, getting louder and louder by the second.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, fingers pinched.

\--

All around the ethereal and occult beings was rubble, smoke, and normal fires, as the Hellfire vanished from the earth when their seals were broken in the bombings. Aziraphale gently brushed a bit of dust that had drifted onto his clean, light gray suit, before smiling at the snake angel who was cleaning off his sunglasses.

“That was very naughty of you.” He chuckled.

Crowley glared at him from where he stood, slipping on his newly-cleaned glasses. “Shut up.” 

“Well, it was. Ah, and a bit, as much as I hate to say it, nice of you. No paperwork, for a start.” Paper… oh no! “The books! I forgot all the books…! They’ll have been blown to…”

He trailed off, watching Crowley approach a pile of rubble, where someone’s hand was sticking out, clenched tightly around something. He yanks it out of the dead man’s clutches, revealing to Aziraphale a perfectly intact leather bag, still full with his precious collection. He approached the demon, gently handling the bag over. “A little, angelic miracle of my own. Ride home?”

Aziraphale stood there, watching as Crowley stumbled his way to where his precious Bentley sat across the street, clearly without a single speck of damage on her. He stood there, blinking, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest as a beautiful, wonderful feeling filled his chest as he held his books close.

“Wait for me, darling!” He called out, chasing after the snake.

\--

“Your feet look dreadful, Crowley!” Aziraphale tutted, watching his guest carefully move his hand over his feet. The ‘shoes’ vanishing, becoming black and iridescent speckles of scales on his heels and the bottom of his feet. The scales did nothing to cover the very obvious damage done to Crowley's feet from the tainted church's floor. The human skin of his corporation was a terrible shade of red, like a nasty sunburn, or Crowley had placed his feet in fire. 

Nothing like the darker patches on Aziraphale’s hands, indicating his paw pads from his cat form, Crowley looked to be in some really bad pain. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Crowley tried to smile, putting his feet on the ground, only to pull them back up, wincing from the pain.

With a snap, the angel was surprised to find his feet sitting in a small wash pan, with Aziraphale holding a hot kettle of water. “This will help, darling.” Aziraphale commented softly, gently tipping the hot water into the pan, there was a sharp burn that eased carefully and the burns on Crowley's feet eased up on the pain, just a little though.

“Thanks, kitty cat.” Crowley mumbled, leaning back on the loveseat in their usual spot in the antique shop. A quick snap of his fingers and Epson salt was in the water, that would work wonders.

Aziraphale didn’t reply as he tipped the last of the water in, more than there should have been in the kettle, but it was smart to have continued pouring until the pan was full. He looked at the angel and sighed, sitting down next to him. “Crowley, dear, I think we should have a little talk.”

“No Holy Water…” Crowley mumbled, looking relaxed, like he was about to sleep from the heat.

“No, no, not that… Well, okay, it has to do with the Holy Water, but it’s more of…” Aziraphale sighed loudly, running his hands through his wild hair. “I want to apologize.”

Golden eyes looked at him and Crowley turned to stare, confused. “Apologize?”

“For asking, and being mad, and… for hurting your feelings. I have a strong feeling in my gut that you napped for so long because you were avoiding me.”

There was a heavy silence before Crowley sat up a little straighter, turning to face him better, looking right into mismatched eyes. “Aziraphale, it’s… fine, and the nap had nothing to do with you. Really, it was more for my own benefit than hiding away from all that. Apology accepted. Just… promise me you won’t ask for the Holy Water from me again.”

“Crowley…”

“Aziraphale.” He took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you want it for insurance, but it’s dangerous, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The demon stared at him, seeing how serious and worried his angel was, before he gave a small nod. “I promise, I won’t ask for it from you again.”

A small smile came to the redhead and he gave his own nod. “Good, see, all is forgiven, idiot.” He lightly punched Aziraphale in the arm before waving his hand, a glass of brandy appearing in it. “Here, you look like you could use a good drink.”

“You have no idea.” Aziraphale chuckled softly, taking the glass as Crowley made himself up another one. “Wonder what my report will say about this. Demon Aziraphale killed three Nazis but an angel was there, should I write that for them?”

“Bah, just tell them the half-truth, and that you caused the bombs to fall on them.” Crowley took a long sip. “I won’t write up this in my own report.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why not? Those were some big miracles you used, angel.”

“I’ll just say I was helping some people out, been doing as much of that as I can around the city since this whole mess started.”

“Explains some of the miraculous escapes I’ve been hearing about.” The cat demon smirked a bit. “Heaven can’t be mad at you for using so many miracles this time around.”

Crowley made a face, sinking into the couch. “Never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope! You looked so cute in your little costume!” Aziraphale grinned brightly and Crowley stuck out his forked tongue at him.

“Says the bastard in lilac silk heels just years before.” Crowley mumbled, sipping at his brandy.

“Oi! They were stylish!”

“Stylish ten years before then!”

“You’re just jealous that I can actually walk in heels, you tripped the moment you took your first step.”

“Bite me, demon.”

“Don’t tempt me.” The wink earned him another punch to the arm. Good to see that things were getting back to normal between them, oh, but for how long though?

END

**Author's Note:**

> I have plans for how the Holy Water scene in the 60s will go, same with the one from the 1860s went. And the Bastille scene might be swapped because… I gotta have Aziraphale come in to save Crowley, I was gonna leave it as normal, but it will be so much more fun with Crowley chained up instead.
> 
> Also, the scene with the books being returned to Aziraphale, this isn’t the moment he fell in love with Crowley, the idiot’s been in love with him for a long, long time, this just reminded him that his heart still belongs to his favorite angel, even after their big fight. 
> 
> I’d love to write up another Reverse Omens through history one-shot again, if anyone has any suggestions, you can request them! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading, don’t forget to comment and kudos!


End file.
